9 Dragons

hit him with a bottle. I told him if he wouldn’t sell the store, then he had to get a gun. But it didn’t do him any good.”
    “They usually don’t.”
    The detectives thanked Li and left him in his office, a twenty-six-year-old who somehow seemed a couple decades older now. As they walked through the store Bosch checked his watch and saw it was now after one. He was starving and wanted to grab something before heading to the medical examiner’s office for the autopsy at two. He stopped in front of the hot case and zeroed in on the meatloaf. He pulled a service number out of the dispenser. When he offered to buy Chu a slice, he said he was a vegetarian.
    Bosch shook his head.
    “What?” Chu asked.
    “I don’t think we could make it as partners, Chu,” Bosch said. “I don’t trust a guy who doesn’t eat a hot dog every once in a while.”
    “I eat tofu hot dogs.”
    Bosch cringed.
    “They don’t count.”
    He then saw Robert Li approaching them.
    “I forgot to ask. When will my father’s body be released to us”
    “Probably tomorrow,” Bosch said. “The autopsy is today.”
    Li looked crestfallen.
    “My father was a very spiritual man. Do they have to desecrate his body”
    Bosch nodded.
    “It’s a law. There’s an autopsy after any homicide.”
    “When will they do it?”
    “In about an hour.”
    Li nodded in acceptance.
    “Please don’t tell my mother this was done. Will they call me when I can have his body?”
    “I’ll make sure they do.”
    Li thanked them and headed back to his office. Bosch heard his number called by the man behind the counter.

9
    O n the way back downtown Chu informed Bosch that after fourteen years on the job he had yet to witness an autopsy and didn’t care to change course. He said he wanted to get back to the AGU office to continue efforts to identify the triad bagman. Bosch dropped him off and then headed over to the county coroner’s office on Mission Road. By the time he checked in, gowned up and got into suite 3, the autopsy of John Li was well under way. The coroner’s office performed six thousand autopsies a year. The autopsy suites were tightly scheduled and managed and the medical examiners didn’t wait for late-arriving cops. A good one could knock off a surgical autopsy in an hour.
    All of this was fine with Bosch. He was interested in the findings of the autopsy, not the process.
    John Li’s body was lying naked and violated on the cold stainless-steel autopsy table. The chest had been opened and the vital organs removed. Dr. Sharon Laksmi was working at a nearby table where she was putting tissue samples on slides.
    “Afternoon, Doctor,” Bosch said.
    Laksmi turned from her work and glanced back at him. Because of the mask and hair cap Bosch was wearing, she could not readily identify him. Long gone were the days when the detectives could just walk in and watch. County health regs required the full protection package.
    “Bosch or Ferras?”
    “Bosch.”
    “You’re late. I started without you.”
    Laksmi was small and dark. What was most noticeable about her was that her eyes were heavily made-up behind the plastic shield of her mask. It was as if she realized that her eyes were the only feature people saw behind all the safety garb she wore most of the time. She spoke with a slight accent. But who didn’t in L.A.? Even the outgoing chief of police sounded like he was from South Boston.
    “Yes, sorry. I was with the victim’s son and it ran kind of long.”
    He didn’t mention the meatloaf sandwich that had cost him some time as well.
    “Here’s what you are probably looking for.”
    She tapped the blade of her scalpel on one of four steel specimen cups lined up to her left on the counter. Bosch stepped over and looked down into them. Each held one piece of evidence extracted from the body. He saw three deformed bullets and a single bullet casing.
    “You found a casing? Was it on the body?”
    “In it, actually.”
    “
In
the body?”
    “That’s right. Lodged in the esophagus.”
    Bosch thought of what he had discovered while looking at the crime scene pictures. Blood on the victim’s fingers, chin and lips. But not on his teeth. He had been right about his hunch.
    “It appears you are looking for a very sadistic killer, Detective Bosch.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Because either he shoved a casing down your victim’s throat or the ejected casing somehow landed in his mouth. Since the latter would be a